Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
by Kerd151
Summary: On Halloween, just one year after James and Lily were supposedly betrayed and Peter supposedly killed, Remus Lupin returns to the small cottage in Godric's Hollow where James, Lily and Harry once lived. Inspired by the song of the same title from Les Miserables. Warning: Extremely angsty! One-shot, COMPLETE, Please R&R!


"_**There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on"**_

On the afternoon of All Hallows Eve, just one wretched year since Lily, James and Peter had been brutally killed on the word of one they all believed they could trust, Remus Lupin found himself in the small village of Godric's Hollow. Other than a few children who wandered the streets with cauldrons full of candy, Godric's Hollow was quiet; eerily quiet.

The air outside had become icier, the leaves of fall dropping promptly from the trees to give way to the bitter coldness of winter. It was no later than 6PM, yet Godric's Hollow was almost entirely shrouded in darkness. After just a few small steps, Remus came face to face with the house where James, Lily and Harry had once lived. The cottage had once been like a second home to him, yet now it lay abandoned, lopsided and wrecked; a constant reminder of the Wizarding War and the lives it had so painfully destroyed.

Looking around what was once a modest yet beautiful cottage, Remus felt a crushing heaviness that seemed to take over his entire body. In the corner of the room lay the spot where his two best friends had been murdered and their son had narrowly escaped death. It was wrecked; a baby's cot lay half-broken in the middle of the room, ornaments and photos lay smashed on the floor. The place had been blasted to pieces and no-one had dared repair the damage. The place stung painfully of the events that happened the year before. It was like stepping in to the past. Remus strangely found sanctuary within the cottage, the only other thing that had remained as devastated as it was that night.

He left the destroyed room and walked in to the kitchen. The kitchen had scarcely been touched by the dark and powerful magic that'd destroyed the other room. In fact, it was exactly the same as he remembered it. He stared longingly at the table where his friends had once sat, the chairs which would now and forever remain empty. Overwhelming grief consumed him like a vicious serpent, squeezing whatever life remained in his broken body. As much as he tried, he couldn't stop the tears that streamed from his eyes so suddenly and freely, like they'd been waiting a whole year to be released.

Remus reached in to his bag and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey. An overpowering urge forced him to drink the pale amber liquid straight from the bottle, where it travelled through his body and warmed his insides. He kept drinking, savouring the feelings the liquid granted him. With each gulp, he felt number and he treasured the moment when he'd drunk so much he felt nothing at all. No-one ever understood how great it was to feel absolutely nothing. There was no angry serpent, strangling him with the grief that never went away, no flames of anger that almost consumed him. There was nothing and it was perfect.

As the Firewhiskey travelled quickly to his brain, he saw a very vivid image of his friends. He saw the four of them surrounding the table, like they'd done so many times in years past. He saw his four friends sitting there, like they'd never been gone. He grinned. It was the smile of a man who was happy to wade in the joy of his illusions.

"I missed you," he said to them but they said nothing. He saw them so very clearly, James' messy black hair, Lily's kind eyes, Peter's annoying twitching and even Sirius' stupid grin. They said nothing. They were simply phantoms that haunted his own imagination and his grin soon dissipated in to nothing.

He remembered the five of them sitting around this very table. He remembered how they'd spoke so determinedly of destroying the dark forces that penetrated their world. They were scared, they were all scared, but still they fought. They fought for a better tomorrow, for a new and brighter world. As the war raged stronger, so did the passion in their hearts and the fire in their bellies. In the end though, the passionate conviction in their words became their eventual downfall.

Yet the world they so passionately spoke of had never come. They were fighting for a better world, and though admittedly things had changed for the better, Voldemort wasn't gone for good and the world they'd fought for had never been born. Remus' life had worsened considerably since the "end" of the war. Remus was used to being a social outcast; it was one of the greatest downfalls of being a dark creature. Yet he had always had his friends. Now… well now he had no-one.

It was with great shame that Remus admitted to himself that he felt envious of James, Lily and Peter. They were dead, it was over for them and they weren't here to help him through his wretched existence. They were together and he was crushed by a powerful loneliness and heart-breaking grief which threatened to consume him entirely. The pain continued consistently from the day that three of his friends had been murdered and one incarcerated in Azkaban for causing their murders. It was a pain that never seemed to become lighter, a burden that never seemed any easier to carry. Eventually, Remus seemed to get used to it and he accepted it as something he was forced to perpetually carry.

He watched as the sun set, casting an eerie orange glow upon the cottage. He continued gulping from the bottle of Firewhiskey. He sighed in relief as a wave of warmth and numbness overcame his body once more. He continued sitting at the kitchen table, as if expecting the four of them to suddenly appear beside him.

Of course, perhaps he would only wish for three of them to return. He doubted the reappearance of Sirius Black, the man who'd murdered his own friends, the man who was responsible for Harry growing up an orphan, would make him any happier. As he thought about Sirius, the traitor, the coward, rage seemed to build up inside him like an inevitable inferno. The only thing that cooled his fury was the knowledge that he would rot forever in Azkaban, where he belonged.

Remus felt certain guilt when he looked at the empty chairs surrounding the table. It was unfair that he, a mere werewolf, had somehow managed to survive the horrors of the war whilst Lily, James and Peter were dead and poor, innocent Harry was left an orphan. He shouldn't have survived, he knew that. He lived and they were gone and he wished beyond belief that it was the other way round.

He consumed the rest of the Firewhiskey in one gulp which led to an inevitable stupor, which completely, although temporarily, took his pain away.

_**A/N: Thanks for reading!**_

_**Written for;**_

_**2013 Summer Fanfiction Olympics Competition – Prompts – Floor (Write a song-inspired fic), sunset, fall, carry, wave, envy, "I missed you" and the colour orange.**_

_**Broadway Song Challenge – "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" from Les Miserables.**_

_**Hogwarts Classes Competition – Transfiguration (Write about a Gryffindor)**_

_**Fantastic Beasts Challenge – Werewolf (Write about Remus Lupin or Fenrir Greyback)**_

_**Issues/Sensitive Topic Challenge – Depression**_

_**HP Potions Competition – Wolfsbane**_

_**Legendary Gods and Goddesses Competition – **__**Nephthys, Write about someone mourning**_


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